


Something Fishy

by November Snowflake (novembersnow)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Apologies to Tom Felton, Crack, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-24
Updated: 2012-04-24
Packaged: 2017-11-04 05:38:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/390354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/novembersnow/pseuds/November%20Snowflake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone knew Draco Malfoy was a kinky boy, but the latest rumors really took the cake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something Fishy

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted March 30, 2003.
> 
> Shamelessly inspired by Tom Felton's legendary love of fishing.

Everyone knew Draco Malfoy was a kinky boy, but the latest rumors really took the cake.

"Fish?" Harry gasped, his jaw dropping in revulsion.

Ron nodded, a satisfied smirk on his face. "I overheard Blaise talking about it after Potions. Apparently he goes fishing a lot on the lake behind Malfoy Manor, and then he—"

"Stop!" Harry covered his face with his palms. "I don't want to know!"

"You sure?" Ron asked skeptically. "It's a great story. One of the best I've ever heard about Malfoy." The smirk deepened into a thoroughly evil grin. "Or should I say, one of the worst?"

Harry put his fingers in his ears and glared at Ron. "I don't want to know any more stories about Malfoy's freaky sexual proclivities," he announced loudly, as a consequence of not being able to hear himself. "I have nightmares on the subject as it is." 

He blinked as he noticed Ron's gaze shifting in the direction of the rest of the occupants of the Gryffindor common room, all of whom had stopped what they were doing at the sound of Harry's pronouncement and turned to stare. "Oho," called Seamus as Harry dropped his hands from his ears, "nightmares, Harry? Is that what we're calling _those_ sorts of dreams now?"

Harry's face turned beet-red. "I do so have nightmares," he muttered, not making eye contact with anyone.

Even Ron was snickering, the turncoat. "Harry, we've been roomies for six years. I've heard the sounds you make when you have nightmares. Lately the sounds have been..." he coughed, "...different."

Harry hadn't supposed it possible to blush further than he already was, but apparently he had many things to learn about human physiology. He darted a quick, nervous glance around the room, mortified to find everyone looking at him and chuckling, even the cluster of Second Years in the opposite corner. Ah, well, there was one oasis—Ginny Weasley sat at a nearby table and looked at him with wide eyes, but no laughter on her face. He was about to give her a small smile of gratitude when he saw her gaze drop, rather overtly, to his lap. She licked her lips.

Horrified, Harry fled out the portrait hole.

*

Everywhere Harry went, there seemed to be dozens of other students. It was a Saturday, after all, so no classes were in session, but still, didn't anyone here have anything better to do than interfere with his desire for privacy? Finally, in a last, desperate attempt at solitude, he stole into the prefects' bathroom and slumped against the wall. The mermaid in the gold-framed painting on the wall flashed him a flirty smile and curled her tail. "Come to visit me, have you, Harry?"

"I—" he swallowed as she rolled her shoulders, almost dislodging the hair that covered her breasts. "I'm just looking for a little privacy."

Her eyes widened, and her flirty smile turned into a definite leer. "Oh, is that it, then? Well, don't let me interrupt you." She curled up on her rock and watched him with interest.

He stared back at her for a few seconds before her meaning finally hit him, and he blushed again. "No! Not that kind of privacy. I mean—gah, you know what I mean."

She looked disappointed. "You don't want to—not at all?"

"No!" Not that he felt he could have even if he _had_ wanted to, seeing as how all the blood in his body seemed to be burning in his face just now.

"Oh, well." She flipped her tail and turned away from him. "I'm sure that nice Malfoy boy will be back soon enough. He's always so obliging."

Harry choked. "Malfoy?"

"Oh, yes," she said, looking coyly over her shoulder. "He makes quite regular appearances in here. And may I just say," her eyes went dreamy as she began to fan herself with her tail, "that boy really knows his way around aquatic life."

The slamming of the door brought her attention back to the present, but Harry had already escaped.

*

"Bloody Malfoy," he muttered as he stomped through the corridors. The walls of the castle felt stifling suddenly, so Harry changed direction and stomped down the stairs and out the front door, then stomped across the grounds in the direction of the lake. He soon realized the grounds were damp and squishy from autumn rain, so he quit stomping and trudged instead. But the sun was bright and the sky was blue and it was no day for trudging. So he just walked, looking down at his feet and occasionally kicking at wet leaves that clung to his trainers in clumps.

He stopped when he reached the edge of the lake and looked up, only to let his jaw drop in horror. In the middle of the lake drifted a small rowboat. And in that boat was Draco Malfoy. Even at this distance he could see that Draco was glaring at him.

"Stop it!" Harry yelled almost involuntarily, his voice sliding up an octave.

"Go away, Potter!" Malfoy's voice drifted across the lake's surface. "Your ugly mug will scare the fish away!"

"And what you have planned for them won't?" Harry retorted. Draco's shouted reply made Harry pale. "You shouldn't shag fish!" he screamed.

Draco stopped and stared at Harry. "I didn't say anything about shagging fish," he called back. "I said I'm not leaving until I _snag_ some fish. What the fuck is wrong with you?" He sneered. "Ignore that last. Stupid question if I ever heard one. What _isn't_ wrong with you?"

Harry stood at the edge of the water with his hands on his hips. "At least I don't wank for mermaids!"

Draco's mouth worked, but no sound came out. Finally he pulled his line out of the water and yelled at Harry, "That's it! I'm coming in! I don't know what the fuck your problem is...." The rest was muttered as he began to gather his things and took hold of the oars, pulling the boat back to shore.

Harry had the entirely inappropriate thought that Draco Malfoy had really powerful shoulders. The realization made him clench his fists. And when Draco hopped out of the boat and tugged it the rest of the way to shore, Harry steadfastly refused to allow himself to think about Malfoy's backside. Some things were just too unholy to contemplate.

When Malfoy finally turned to confront Harry, his face was reddened from exertion and damp with sweat. Harry stared in horrified fascination at a single trickle of sweat that slid slowly down the other boy's temple. He didn't hear a single word Malfoy said to him until Malfoy punched him in the shoulder, shoving him backward a step. "What's the matter, Potter? Fish got your tongue?"

And that was just so wrong that of course Harry pushed him back. The nerve of Malfoy, insinuating things about him and fish, when everyone knew it was _Draco_ who had the weird fish fetish! Why, he might as well have gills! And…and fins! And scales! Malfoy shoved him back, and there was absolutely no reason for Harry to be this hard right now. Oh, god, no reason at all. He shoved Malfoy so hard, the other boy fell back onto the sand, and Harry pounced on top of him, pummeling him.

"What the hell, Potter?" Draco snarled, twisting from one side to the other in an effort to avoid Harry's flailing fists. He bucked upward once, hard, and Harry groaned and lost his concentration, giving Draco an advantage he immediately seized, flipping Harry onto his back and pinning his hands above his head. "Now," he panted, "what the fuck is this all about?"

Harry's breath was labored, but he managed to growl in response, "You're a horrible person, Malfoy."

Draco sat astride him and gazed down at him in contempt. "You do say the sweetest things, Potter." He cuffed Harry across the chin. "Why are you even out here?"

"Because you're a filthy pervert!" Harry snarled, attempting to squirm away.

Draco merely planted his knees more firmly to either side of Harry's waist. "What?" he drawled. "And you were trying to get in on a bit of it yourself?"

Harry gasped in affronted horror. "I was…looking out for other creatures! For all I knew, you came out here to get freaky with the giant squid!"

Draco's face came down close to Harry's. "His name is Mortimer."

Harry redoubled his squirming efforts. "See? See?! I knew you were a filthy pervert!"

"Oh, Potter," Draco murmured, and his tone made Harry freeze his movements. "You have no idea how filthy and perverted I can be." Harry's eyes locked on Draco's and grew wide at what they saw. And when Draco's smirking lips descended on his, he couldn't contain a little squeak of surprise. Draco's tongue was warm and slick, and there was certainly nothing fishy about it. Harry began to squirm for an entirely different reason and Draco pressed down against him harder. "Harry," he gasped. "Harry..."

*

"Harry...Harry!"

A sharp kick brought him awake and he groaned in the dimness. He was disoriented for a few moments, and all he could think was _gills gills I wish I had gills_. He shook his head and the fog slowly cleared, leaving him wondering what the hell he'd been dreaming about this time. It was then he realized someone was poking him repeatedly in the back. _Poke, poke, poke_. Another whine. " _Haaaarry_!"

"Wha'?" he mumbled, still half-asleep.

"Get up, you lazy sod. We're going fishing this morning, remember?"

His eyes flew open as something in that sentence jogged a hazy memory, but then they fell closed again as he snuggled back into his pillow. "'Snot morning yet," he muttered. "'Sdark out."

"We have to get moving now." Another round of poking. "Honestly, Potter, it was your idea in the first place. Get the fuck up."

Harry pushed himself up and rolled over, effectively pinning the nuisance to the mattress. "Fishing, is it?" he murmured, pressing his lips into the corner of the other man's jaw.

"Yes, fishing, you prat." Malfoy wriggled underneath him, and Harry groaned, nudging his hips against Draco's. "Not that I don't want to play a game of The Big Happy Eel this morning, but we're already running late." He poked Harry in the shoulder again. "You're impossible to wake sometimes, you know. You just kept muttering things about mermaids and squid."

The words sent an odd tingle down Harry's spine. "Mm," he replied eloquently, burying his face in Draco's shoulder. "Fishing."

"That's right," Draco said, as if to a child, "fishing. I was as surprised as anyone when you suggested it, and I'm not going to let you back out now."

"Fishing," Harry said again, biting Draco's neck and moving downward.

Draco arched against him, running his hands down Harry's flanks. "God, Harry," he groaned. "You get like this every time I mention fish. Five years, and it's every damn time."

"Fish," Harry breathed against Draco's navel.

"You know," Draco panted, struggling for coherent thought as Harry's mouth closed over him, "I've always suspected…there was something a little—" _gasp_ "—fishy about you, Potter...."


End file.
